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You've likely seen Psycho, the iconic thriller, and The Texas Chainsaw Massacre. Maybe you've even read the books that served as the basis for the first two films. Now prepare to meet the man who inspired Norman Bates, the serial killer, and the chainsaw-wielding villain. The infamous Ed Gein!

The first two seasons of this anthology series centered around the Milwaukee monster – a name with widespread notoriety. Then came the sibling duo – a somewhat specialized story for dedicated true crime fans. Now the spotlight turns to the Plainfield Ghoul. While he may lack the brand recognition of Dahmer, Bundy, or Gacy, and his confirmed victims number just two, his postmortem violations and macabre artistry with the deceased have made a profound impact. Even now, any film or show featuring dismembered remains, flayed skin, or skin-based artifacts likely draws inspiration to Gein's exploits from many decades past.

A Dismissive Approach

Is my tone too casual? It's clearly the intended style of the creators. It's uncommon to witness a television series that lingers so gleefully on the most heinous acts an individual – and mankind – can commit. This includes a significant plotline devoted to Nazi atrocities, shown with minimal moral context.

Structural and Stylistic Strengths

In terms of construction and style, the show is impressive. The pacing is flawless, and the clever interweaving of past and present is handled masterfully. We see Charlie Hunnam as the killer in action – the murders, grave robberies, and curating his gruesome trophies. In parallel, the present-day narrative follows the creative minds as they craft the iconic film from Bloch's Gein-inspired novel. The integration of the real – his devout parent and his obsession with female doppelgangers – and fictionalized scenes – fetishistic depictions of the Buchenwald criminal and Nazi party scenes – is executed proficiently.

The Glaring Omission

What it lacks, in a truly unacceptable way, is ethical commentary or meaningful analysis to offset the lingering, loving shots of Gein's depraved acts. The series portrays his rich inner world and frames him as a man at the mercy of his domineering mother and a morbidly fascinated girlfriend. The underlying suggestion seems to be: How could a mentally ill man resist? In one scene, Robert Bloch speculates that without exposure to photographs, Gein would have remained a small-town simpleton.

A Departure from Precedent

One might contend that a show from this stable – renowned for glossy, high-camp style – is an unlikely source for deep psychological exploration. However, earlier series like the OJ Simpson trial drama offered sharp analysis on the press and the legal system. The Assassination of Gianni Versace explored celebrity and society. The Clinton scandal series examined embedded misogyny. So it can be done, and the producer has succeeded before.

The Ultimate Assessment

Yet not in this case. This installment feels like a commercialization of a lesser-known criminal case. It asks for empathy for the man behind the masks without offering genuine insight into how he became a monster. Aside from the reductive "devout parent" reasoning, there is little effort to understand the creation or prevent future cases. This is merely gratuitous spectacle to the lowest curiosities of viewers. The Nazi scenes do have lovely lighting, admittedly.